It was surprising how quickly in response to Saul's knocking a door to the left of the main entrance, and leading upstairs, opened. After a few words with the moon-faced attendant, the light was switched on and the three ascended to a small room, brilliant with gaudy Oriental colors and heavy with ebony furnishings. A group of three or four Chinamen sat at a small table soberly drinking their tea with the exaggerated innocence of those who have a deck of cards up their sleeves. The proprietor himself, fat as a butter ball, toddled up to Saul with a grin upon his round, colorless face. He ordered tea for all and they sat down. In two minutes Saul had explained what he wished, and in five a couple of the silent group near had taken Chung's orders and stolen out like ghosts.
Saul swallowed his tea boiling hot and glanced at his watch. It was half-past four.
"Now," he said, "I 'm going back for a wink of sleep. You can sit on here or you can have Chung notify you at your hotel, eh, Chung?"
"Allee light," nodded the proprietor.
"How long do you think it will take?" asked Donaldson quickly.
"Might take till noon to search every place—and then we might not find him if he's an old hand at the game," answered Saul.
"Till noon!" exclaimed Donaldson irritably. "Good Lord, that's eight hours!"
Saul placed his hand affectionately upon Donaldson's shoulder.
"See here, Don," he replied earnestly. "Take my advice and get some sleep."
"Do you think I can waste time in sleep?"